Daughter of the Empire, part I
by Feathuriel
Summary: The journal and adventures of a young Klingon Warrior and her crew during the events of 2409


**Daughter of the Empire - part 1**

The Qo'Nos system star shone brightly it's yellow-orange rays reflecting upon the metallic scaffold of the space-dock of the Orbital shipyard. Protecting the hull of a B'Rel-class vessel it bustled with activity, tugs ferrying material, worker-bees conducting final external maintenance. Vianna, set her hand on the glass of the shuttle ferrying her to the Bird-of-Prey and smiled. Pride swelled inside her and her mind raced to the ceremony during which she was given her first command. The faces of the Warriors from her House, her mother watching her, the honor she felt. It felt up to her to live up to it. Her deeds in battle and out would bring praises to her family, she would have the opportunity that Vianna, Daughter of Neral was worthy to be called a daughter of the Klingon Empire.

The slight hum of the shuttle's engines came to a stop and the access door opened, a gangway leading to the airlock of the Tarango, the ship she had been given to command. An older Bird of Prey, a B'rel that had seen combat action for the past forty years but the KDF had not deemed ready for decommission. As she stepped forward she no longer found herself in the shuttle. A gruff Klingon Warrior saluted her and nodded. Feeling inclined to return it, she did so and the man moved about his duties. The small B'rel was not hard to navigate, easily making her way to the bridge. The double doors lay closed but she knew what lay behind them. With a deep breath she readied herself to meet her senior officers.

At his station, Chief Engineer M'Rel verified the last reports gathered by his diagnostic tools. The ship seemed to be in parameters but he would take his time to fine tune it. The lateral Intertial Dampeners were slightly out of alignment which might make for a somewhat bumpy ride while accelerating to Warp-Speeds. Also the new replicator in the mess-hall was a disaster. He had assigned a younger crewman to repair it but it never managed to get many recipes right. Deciding to get over his thoughts of material produced or stolen by the Orions he went over it.

Besides him Talash, a Gorn worked. Why he had requested transfer to a KDF vessel it was unknown but the Gorn's records showed some promise as a tactical officer. Having served under another Klingon, Talash was accustomed to Imperial vessel procedures and after a full review had done quite a good job. Hours earlier he finished the calibration of the Torpedo Launchers, adjusting the power distribution for the pre-firing chamber.

Quietly at his station another non-Klingon worked. A Nausicaan called Narekon, a very odd Nausicaan at that was briefing a junior member of the crew over emergency shield operations. He had arrived two days earlier and much to the ire of the Chief Engineer he started working on systems that largely did not concern him. A quick venting of steam allowed M'Rel to impose his will on the Science officer but after reviewing his work, the Klingon allowed him to continue on it.

One other senior Klingon officer worked aboard the vessel, B'Etara. She was in charge of the Medical Ward mostly but she was a wizard at working with deflectors. The only veteran officer aboard the Tarango, stories circulated of how she managed to disable the shielding on a Federation Cruiser by carefully sending an energy pulse through the deflector. This allowed the smaller Klingon ship to disable the Galaxy-Class Cruiser and leave it adrift.

With a gentle whoosh-like sound the Bridge's access doors opened and a Klingon female stepped in. Shorter somewhat than B'Etara, somewhat slender but with a proud look in her eyes she glanced at each officer in turn, staring them down where she had to. It was the only signal M'Rel needed. Vianna looked at him as he walked toward her with a PADD in his hand. Barely bowing his head the man offered her the device, "Captain, I first officer and chief engineer M'Rel son of Krogh offer you our roster of battle. With it I offer my life and that of the crew into your hands!".

Accepting the PADD, Vianna nodded. She proceeded to walk around the bridge stopping to turn to the others, raising the roster in both hands, "I Vianna, Daughter of Neral take your life into my hands as your Captain. May we bring honour and glory to the Empire!". For a moment the young Vianna thought she'd lose herself. These people obviously were more experienced than herself. Now she faced leading a Gorn and Nausicaan too, not exactly her idea of a Klingon crew. She knew what would happen if she wavered in her resolve, she knew they would all watch her for leadership but also weakness.

Seating herself in the Captain's chair she turned toward the Helmsman, "Helm, inform Dock control that the Tarango is ready for departure. Secure all docking ports, close all hatches and release docking clamps. Aft thrusters one half. Bring us to one quarter impulse once we clear the dock and to the first marker!". Her voice was full of authority, she made it sure he must know, he must obey or face punishment.

S'Rel, the helmsman replied, "Dock control informs us departure is cleared, all tugs and worker-bees are out of our flight path, bringing aft thrusters to one half, one quarter impulse from dock clear to outer marker, aye Captain".

Closing her eyes for a moment Vianna felt the ship around her come alive. The thrusters flared and the Bird-of-Prey left it's nest, the embrace of the Dock. Soon it would hunt, it would do it's duty, earn glory along with it's crew. As it's stern crossed the docking marker the Impulse engines kicked in, slowly the B'rel making it's turn to the standard departure marker. The voice of the Qo'Nos orbital control officer filled the sound systems aboard the bridge, "Tarango this is Qo'Nos orbital contol, your flight plan is cleared, proceed at your own discretion. Good hunting and Qa'Pla!".

Pride, excitement, those feelings took over young Vianna's mind and heart. She was a Klingon Warrior, daughter of a small but respected house. Just as the Tarango cleared the traffic lane her palms began slapping the arm rests of the chair. Joined by her crew the sound of music soon filled the bridge:

Qoy qeylIs puqloD  
Qoy puqbe'pu'  
ya bo ma bo je' SuvwI'  
Say moH chu may'u  
maSuv manong 'ej maHoHchu'  
nI'be'yInmaj 'ach wovqu'!

batlh maHghbej'jyoqIjDaq  
vavpu'ma' DImuvpa'reH maSuvtaH  
Qu' DamevQo' maSuvtaH, ma'ov

- end of part 1 -

This is my first writing, so please don't be to judgemental. I hope you enjoy it.


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